Liars and Cheaters
by Fallen Ark Angel
Summary: In which Steph and Paul are doing things they shouldn't be, but are too selfish to stop. - One-shot.


"We shouldn't be doing this."

"How come?"

"Because you're...you have a girlfriend."

"And?" The man, who was far too close for comfort at the moment, only gave Stephanie a rather cheesy grin. "It's just for the show."

But it wasn't. At all. It might have started that way, but it was becoming increasingly clear that it wasn't going to stay.

"I'm serious." But her voice didn't sound nearly as so. "We can't, Hunter."

"Paul." He was next to her on the couch, where they had been going over the script only moments before. Now all that was going over was one of his hands rubbing at her thigh and the other circling around her shoulders. "You can call me Paul."

It wasn't as if that had all begun in that moment. Not at all. Weeks, actually, of working together, were culminating at the moment and they weren't leaving a very good taste in Steph's mouth.

Then again, that might just be left over from having Hunt- Paul's tongue shoved down her throat…

Pinpointing when the whole thing began wasn't easy. Certainly not before they first were forced together, at Armageddon. much less before that begotten wedding. She didn't remember feeling much for him as they snuggled up during the Christmas show either, other than, perhaps, some mild attraction.

Hunter was hot. He just was. There was nothing wrong with her taking notice of that. A lot of the guys on the roaster were attractive.

She just...didn't find herself spending hours a week alone with them, going over dramatic scrips playing out their faux marriage.

It was some time before scoring her title, she was nearly certain, that she realized that the man had some interest in her as well. There wasn't so much a verbal confirmation of this; they were both seeing other people and, if either had spoke of it aloud, the other might have managed to put an end to things right there.

But neither did. Instead, somehow, they found themselves floating around the edge of something that they shouldn't have been.

He started...touching her more than need be. Which sounded silly to say, considering all the heavy public displays of affection they showed from the start, out there in the ring, but Steph knew what was an act and what was real. Even when the camera wasn't on them, Hunter seemed to have no problem with pressing a kiss to her cheek or running a hand up her arm, across her back, and even once squeezing her ass after they'd walked backstage.

She'd shoved him for that and given him a rather harsh look, but he only grinned back at her, as if in jest, and she smiled back and they just…

Were going to Hell. They had to be.

Right?

"I cannot," Steph whispered then as he leaned his head down once more, staring up at him with wide blue eyes. "Not if we're rehearsing. You're not Paul. You're Hunter."

She had him there.

"I have a better idea," he whispered as he closed the distance between them once more. "Don't call me anything."

How they got from suggestive touching to...then was much more complex.

They had to be alone together, to practice lines. That's what Steph told herself all the time. And they had to get into character, to do that effectively. Bounce ideas off one another. There was no one, not single one, of the young superstars in her father's company that knew the business as well as her on-screen husband.

Not a single one.

In her mind at least.

And his mind was always going, when they were behind closed doors. Quick witted was probably the best way to describe him. Everything she said he could counter.

Everything.

And he tried to help her too, a lot, come up with cool and funny things to say. Hunter was so cool and funny. Older, hot, cool, and funny. Plus they had to spend hours at a time trapped alone together?

Steph blamed Vince, really, for her breaking that sacred rule he'd bestowed upon her when she started spending more time around the wrestlers. The one that she rolled her eyes at, embarrassed just from hearing it.

Under no circumstance was she ever, and he meant it, _ever_ allowed to start dating one of the guys in the locker room.

When she was more adventurous (because he only told her that, oh, constantly), she'd challenge him with, "What about the women?" and get this really long stare down before Vince would laugh it all off and everything was great.

Everything was fine.

Even then.

Because Steph was _not_ in a relationship with one of his wrestlers.

That was drive home quite well when, not a day after spending at least an hour making out (and some grabbing), she saw him with her. His girlfriend. Backstage. An arm wrapped around her shoulder as they hung out with some of the other guys.

Hunter might be with Stephanie and not Chyna anymore, but Paul was definitely with Joanie and Steph most _certainly_ would _never_ risk getting between that.

Right?

"It's just," she'd heard Paul grumbled more than once backstage when she'd pass him and Joan and she, apparently, didn't like the way he stared after her, "for the show. Shit, what do you think? I'm fucking Vince's daughter?"

Not yet he wasn't.

But he would be.

None of them seemed to realize that just yet though.

Maybe Paul did. Or Hunter. Whatever. Whichever. Because even after Steph saw them, that day after they got so close to doing more than just kissing, him all hanging off Joanie and clearly together, the man had no problem with trying to sleaze right back in with her.

"I don't get," he grumbled when, after asking when and where she wanted to meet up to go over the script, Steph said anywhere other than alone, "what's wrong."

"Honestly?" They weren't exactly in private then, as they'd met in the lobby of the hotel most the wrestlers were staying in (RAW was that night, but neither had to worry about that; he wanted to get together sometime between Smackdown the next day and go over the script), so Steph only stood there, facing him with her arms crossed. Softly, she said, "I'm not stupid, Hunter."

"Paul."

She wasn't playing that game that day. "You're dating someone."

"And?"

"You can't be serious. After what we did-"

"It was for the show."

"You're such a-"

"I just want to go over the damn script. If that's too much for you-"

"And I want to do it around someone else."

"What? Daddy's little girl needs a chaperon?" He snorted too, loudly, before turning to walk away from her. "Maybe you shouldn't have signed up to be a part of the show, princess, if you couldn't deal with what came alone with that."

In hindsight, considering who her father was and how big of an influence he was on Paul, maybe he really did think cheating went hand and hand with the business.

Maybe.

Stephanie was pissed at him though, that week, and just skipped out on meeting up with him at all. The show didn't suffer much from it (it was a rather dull week overall, anyways), but she could tell Paul was pissed at her.

Extremely so.

Part of her was a bit afraid, too, of him going to her father or something, as silly as it sounded, and telling him that she just wasn't cut out for working with talent, or at the very least him. That she wasn't willing to meet with him and was slacking off.

Or, worse, if he got to the man first, he might just tell Vince that Steph was the one hitting on him and that it was affecting their work relationship.

The thought alone could make her blush. And also furious.

All at things he hadn't even thought of doing.

Yet.

And she didn't really know him well enough then to know if he ever would.

Things got worse before they got better though, as even after Steph agreed that next week to meet up, the man was clearly still pissed at her. Not that she felt much better about him. He was an ass, a cheating ass, and she really wished that she could have nothing to do with him.

Oh, and that when he looked her way, her face didn't heat up and she was completely starstruck for some reason.

She'd really appreciate if that was put an end to as well.

It was some weeks later, after going over scripts only around other people, as they found themselves all alone in a backroom of the an arena again (more out of chance, as they sort of just ran into one another and he had some cues to go over with her), that things finally fell back into place. He made a joke about something in the script, she laughed, and oh, wow, was she blushing?

Always.

Why even ask?

"And they didn't put it in here," he was going on as they sat there, on the couch, a whole cushion between them, "but reading between the lines, I think they totally want us to make out after that part."

"I think they always want that."

"Raunchy is in the title of the show, isn't it?"

"I don't think so."

"Should be."

"False advertising without it, really."

And they were both laughing at one another. They hadn't had a good time with one another since, well, they'd made out a few weeks ago and then (in his mind) she'd flailed on him about it afterward.

She'd say it was him while he'd say it was her, but slowly, that cushion between them seemed to be shrinking or something because they closer to one another than before and, oh, shit, did his hand accidentally find itself on her thigh?

Not for long.

"Stephanie," he tried as she shoved it off. "I'm just-"

"We're not doing that again."

"What? Kissing? We kiss all the time for the show."

"On camera."

He shrugged. "What difference does it make if it's on camera or back here?"

Making a face, she said, "What would your girlfriend think then? Huh? If I told her-"

"We're not..."

"You live together."

"Yeah, and that's all we've been doing together. For a long time."

"Bullshit."

She didn't curse freely, so hearing that made him stare down at her with wide eyes. Hers were just glaring up at him though.

"You're always hanging out backstage," she said. "I'm not stupid."

"I'd never call you that."

"Then don't treat me like I am."

He tossed up his hands then, as if in defense, but didn't shift away from her. Not that that was saying much as, regrettable as it was to admit, she hadn't shifted away either.

"I'm not…trying to do anything you don't want, Stephanie." He was staring down at her, looking her right in the eyes, and she wanted to look off, but she didn't do that either. His hair wasn't tied back and she always found him so much more attractive with it down. "But I… I shouldn't be, but I'm into you. But if you're not into me, that's fine; I can turn it right back off. But I wasn't the only one that was into what we did, a couple of days ago."

"Weeks." She wasn't sure why she needed that specification, but she did. "It's been weeks."

"Okay. And? Days make up weeks, don't they?"

"Hunter-"

"If you're into me and I'm into you-"

"You're seeing-"

"We live together," he said with a nod of his head. "And are stuck together because of it. If...if I broke up with her, then she'd have to move out, because it's my place, and that would be a shit thing to do. You know? I'm not...what's that stupid girl thing? In all those movies? Like, I love her or whatever but I'm not..."

Steph didn't want to help him, especially because she knew, deep down, he was probably just playing her, but the words were tumbling out of her mouth regardless. "In love with her?"

Nodding, he said, "Yeah. That one. I'm not in love with her. I don't even really know if I ever was. And… I shouldn't be telling you this." His tone changed then too and, tossing the sheets of paper in his hand down to his lap, he held out a hand to her. "Let's just… Fuck, let's just forget all about this. Alright? And we don't have to be friends or whatever. We'll just play out this storyline and be done with it."

"Hunter-"

"It was wrong of me," he told her then, still holding out his hand, as if waiting for her to grasp it for a shake. She wouldn't though. "To… Even if we are...interested in one another, we can never… So let's just not talk about it again, okay? Any of it. About Joanie or… I just thought that...we could maybe… I really like you. And… But it's not going to happen, so-"

"Wait." She frowned as, dropping his hand, he moved to shove up from the couch. Reaching out, she took the hand finally, holding it in both of her own as she said, "You don't have to-"

"Stephanie, just leave it alone. You-"

"What were you going to tell me? About...you and…"

He was halfway standing, squatting really, with one hand being held by hers and the other grasping his script. Staying that way, he stared down at the woman as he said, "I should have never mentioned that to you. It's just hard, you know? Being on the road all the time? Everyone I have to talk to is close to her too, you know? And I couldn't risk-"

"I'm not."

"Not what?"

Swallowing, Stephanie clarified. "Close to her. Closer to her, I guess. Whatever. She's just one of the wrestlers to me. But you're… Me and you work together and… If you need someone to talk to about this then… We're going to be working together for awhile and, yeah, I'm into you too, but… We can still be friends. Can't we? Paul?"

It was after a breath, but slowly, he fell back into the couch and, with a blush, she let go of his hand as Paul only grinned at her.

"Of course we can," he agreed. "Stephanie."

And she knew it too, looking back, that he'd duped her. The entire thing. The being stuck with Joanie shit, how he had no one to talk to and just wanted a friend, to be her friend, but…

Maybe Stephanie wanted to get fooled. To be tricked. Because it was easier to rationalize, wasn't it? That Paul was forced into a relationship that he didn't want to be in anymore, but he was too good of a guy, cared too much about someone that he wasn't in love with any longer, to see her hurt, to possibly be out on the streets.

And, most importantly, it made Steph feel like less of a cheat too. Less of a ho. A slut. That she wasn't stealing another woman's boyfriend. Not really. Because Paul wanted to leave Joanie. He told her so. He told her all about it, as they were pretending to be friends, that day and the next few. He kept talking about it too when by that Friday, they found themselves giggling on late night phone calls and moving far pass handshakes and, oh, by about three weeks of friendship, in bed together at some seedy motel down the road from where the rest of the wrestlers were staying.

If he was in a bad relationship, but unable to leave it, then that almost made Steph his...savior. Right? Right. She became that person to vent to and to take care of his feelings and remind him what a good person he was, about how he was doing the right thing, and it was okay, Paul, not Hunter, because he was Paul to her then, off screen, and she was a completely different Stephanie, and they were just…

Cheating. She knew it. Lying to herself about it didn't change that. At all. They were both still immensely wrong.

But when she was with him, and they were playing their new roles, not their husband and wife roles, but the people stuck in shit relationships and finding solace in one another, she could pretend like that wasn't real.

Oh. Yeah. Both stuck. Because she was seeing someone too.

Only, Paul wasn't as accepting and caring as she was towards his situation.

"You knew," she complained once as she climbed out of the hotel room bed to get dressed, needing to leave then, if she was going to make good time and get back home to see the man in question by the next morning, "that I had a boyfriend."

It was the night after a Smackdown taping and Paul needed to get gone too. Joanie was back at his real motel room, where his stuff was, where his girlfriend was, and he was already staying out later than she'd probably accept.

Honestly, sometimes Steph wondered how she pretended for so long to not know that they were more than just living together, how she pulled a bigger dupe than he did on her, doing it to herself, into believe that she really didn't realize how boyfriend like he still was acting, towards a woman he wasn't 'in love' with any longer.

"Yeah, I'd heard it before, but I didn't know that was still a thing."

Stephanie was pulling back up her panties and didn't glance over her shoulder at him. "It is. And I promised him I'd meet him for breakfast, so I have to-"

"You can't drive at night."

"I'm not tired."

"Stephanie-"

"I want to see him."

"Why?" For a man that needed to scurry back to his own girlfriend, he sure hadn't moved a muscle from where he was, atop the askew covers, arms folded over his sculptured chest. "Huh?"

"What difference does it make? Why do you wanna see-"

"I don't. But I have to."

"Bullshit."

"Stephanie-"

"Why would you get to have a girlfriend? But I can't have a boyfriend? You're not...my boyfriend, so-"

"Because I said so."

That time she did glance over at him, wiggling back into her skirt while she was at it. "I'm not yours. You don't control me."

There was no light on in the room, but she could still see the dark glint in his eyes as he said, "I don't want you to see him anymore."

"Too bad."

"The fuck does he do for you? Huh? You see the man once every two weeks, if that." Snorting, Paul said, "I ain't your boyfriend, but I give you more than that."

"You do not."

"Stephanie-"

"I don't get to spend time with you, Paul. Outside of work. We don't get to go to the movies or to dinner or even just go walk in a damn park, because you're seeing someone else."

"So are you!"

"But I could end it if I wanted to."

And so could he. She wanted to add that, but she didn't, because if she admitted that aloud, that would be admitting that she didn't believe him, never believed him, about how he and Joanie were finished.

And that would make her a slut.

Or ho.

Or something.

She wasn't certain the different classifications, but was nearly certain one of those words fit.

"Then do it," Paul told her and he had that snarling face on. He was pissed. The man that was living with someone else, sleeping with someone else (though he claimed they weren't, Steph inwardly had her doubts), and _loving_ (but not in love with) someone else, was mad at her for seeing someone else. It was almost laughable. "Break up with him."

She turned to face him as she slipped her bra on. Keeping eye contact, she said simply, "No."

He was tensing. "Are you...sleeping with him?"

"Mmmhmm."

Growl. Just a bit. "Still?"

"Still."

"Stephanie-"

"He's my boyfriend. He's the one I'm supposed to sleep with. You're not."

That was the final straw for the man, it seemed, as he practically bounced out of the bed. Stalking right over to her, gaze smoldering, he asked lowly, "Does he fuck you?"

And Steph had had enough. Rolling her eyes, she said, "Paul, knock it-"

"Does he?" When she tired to pull on her shirt, he moved to snatch it from her hands and throw it away.

"Hey-"

"Does he fuck you, Steph? The way I do?"

"You're not-"

"Do you suck his cock for him too?"

"Enough."

But it wasn't enough. He was pissed then and getting all worked up and she hated it, that he had such a hold over her, that it was hot to her, to see him so angry about it. Messed up. It was all a mess, sure, but that part was especially messed up.

About as much as it was messed up that it seemed to turn Paul on, as he kept asking her, as her clothes, one by one, found their way back off, if she liked it better with him? Than she did her boyfriend? Did he take her up against the wall? In shitty motels that probably carried more diseases than the people that used them?

It was frenzied too and over too soon, but they'd both spent themselves only twenty minutes previously and were both just so hot from the idea of it, for her of him being so jealous and possessive and him from the concept of her being in love with that other guy, but still choosing him, still sneaking off with him.

Too much. All of it was too much.

"I'm not," she mumbled still, against his ear, when it was over and her legs were still dangling around his waist as his press of her against the wall weakened, both spent, thoroughly then, "leaving him. We're not...together, Paul. But I am. With him."

"He doesn't fuck you like that." This was mumbled against her shoulder as he rested his head there, still supporting her and not letting her untangle her legs from his waist, knowing that once he did, she would leave the room, leave him, for that other guy. "He doesn't get you. Not like me. I get you in every way. Not just...in here, in hotel rooms, but me and you like the same shit. The same music, the same movies, we think the same. We're the same. Not you and him. He doesn't do the shit for you that I do."

"But you don't do the things for me that he does either."

And that was the crux of the whole matter.

"Go back to Joanie." Stephanie kissed at his ear, biting the lobe a bit as he dropped her to the ground finally. "And call me tomorrow. Late. I'll be at home. Okay?"

But he was shaking his head and wouldn't speak to her.

He finished dressing and left before she did.

It was a long ride back home for Steph. And silent. She didn't even turn on the radio.

Because she could lie to herself, about what she was doing to Paul's girlfriend, and how she was helping him, but there was no lie she could feed herself that made what she was doing to her own boyfriend okay.

She just kind of pretended he didn't exist until he did and then the guilt was there to eat at her.

This went on for a good while. Until, well, Vince got involved.

"What do you mean he knows?"

"I mean," Stephanie told Paul in a hurried voice, "that I went out to lunch with my father and he point blank asked he how long you and I have been dating."

They'd met up, as they typically did, at a coffee shop about three towns away from where the show was being held that week. If someone encountered them, they'd play it up as just meeting up for show stuff, but, hopefully, no one would.

"And you said?"

"What do you think?"

"Stephanie-"

"He's not mad," she was quick to add. It was the middle of the afternoon, so there weren't many people in the place, but they were both whispering softly. She always told herself that she wasn't too recognizable, but he certainly was. The last thing that either wanted was to be overheard. "Much."

"How the hell did he even find out?"

"He just thought that we were too close. And were hanging around one another too much. And-"

"And you couldn't have just denied it and-"

"You don't think I did? About a thousand times? Before he broke me?"

Letting out a long breath, Paul said, "If he's not mad, then-"

"He knows about you and...Joanie too," Stephanie said as Paul started to get antsy. "But I told him what you told me; that you guys aren't really together anymore and you're just living together and that she doesn't know anything and that we're-"

"You told the man," he tried hard not to hiss, "that controls my fate in this damn business, that not only am I screwing his daughter, but I'm also doing it behind the back of-"

"He's not," Stephanie insisted, "mad. He's just… He wants to talk to you. To both of us. Tomorrow."

And hell if that wasn't a horrible meeting.

Vince was rather...different, in many ways, from most people. He was very hot and cold. In inexplicable variants. Even in a single conversation.

He yelled at them a bit first, in his makeshift office, but then he was calm. Growling. Soft hums of considerations. Accusations of using his daughter and cheating. Admiration for caring about someone you no longer were in love with and their well being.

Paul didn't know what to make about the meeting once it was over.

Other than, in a very blanketed way, Vince had told them to carry on as they were.

But not to cause damn drama backstage; if they could sneak around, fine, if they couldn't, they needed to end things right then.

Again, weeks went on to become a few months and slowly, things fell into an uneasy calm again. Not that Joanie still didn't get onto him at times, for how close he appeared to Steph and about him being gone at inexcusable hours, but that was fine. He could weather that storm.

He was weathering that storm.

It was Steph, as it turned out, that he wasn't able to handle.

"You're still sleeping with her, aren't you?"

This came a few weeks after Steph made the huge revelation to him that, finally, things had come to a somewhat amicable end between her and her boyfriend and, in tentative giggles, she'd claimed that even though he was still with Joanie, she kind of sort of thought of him as filling that position then.

And Paul had been all for it and mumbled against her neck as they rolled around in the sheets that night about how much he cared for her, and just give him time, more time, and he'd figure it out, with Joanie, with everyone, and he cared about her, so much about her, and damn, just time, give him time.

She ate that up for a few weeks. That's what their life was, really, when he considered it. Just weeks. Stages of weeks. Strangers for a few, friends for another couple, enemies after crossing the friendship line, then lovers for a few, and now…

Now.

"Stephanie, what are you talking about?"

They'd met up when getting into the town that RAW would be in at a motel to spend some time together, go over lines, go over one another, he'd been hoping, much more, but clearly she'd come with other intentions.

They'd sat down on the edge of one of the beds in the room, and he could tell something was up, even as he'd opened the door to find her standing there, but he'd only tried to put his arm around her shoulders and hoped it was something that could be dealt with later.

Clearly it wasn't.

"Are you?"

His arm slowly fell from around her shoulders as she stared up at him. Her tone wasn't angry, but it was definitely heavy. Blue eyes watching his intently, he said, "I don't… Why do you… I told you that we're just-"

"Living together?"

"Yeah."

"Because Daddy heard some stuff about-"

"Steph, don't talk about Vince right now. Or anything. Or anyone. Just-"

"People talk, Paul."

"About what?"

But she only shook her head for a moment, turning away from him, before wrapping her arms around herself.

Softly, she said, "Dad just overheard some stuff about you and Joanie. And how you guys are..."

"Are?"

"Just serious you are."

"Who? Who said that?"

"I don't know."

"Then why are you-"

"Your friends. The others. The other guys," she said then, glancign at him once more. "Some of them."

"I've told you before that you're the only one I can really talk about how me and her aren't working out with. You're the only-"

"I left my boyfriend for you."

"Stephanie," he groaned and tried then to reach over and touch her shoulder, but she shrugged him off. "Why are you-"

"I did. I left him for you and-"

"And one day it will just be me and you. I will figure something out with Joanie. But-"

"Five weeks."

"What?"

"I broke up with him five weeks ago." She was glancing up at him again. "And the night I did, you said that it'd be soon. That you'd figure something out soon."

"I will. I-"

"I've waited months, Paul, for you to figure your shit out. And-"

"You were with someone too! For those months! That-"

"That I would have left, immediately, if you were willing to do the same for me."

"Stephanie, it's not that easy. We're not...children. Me and Joanie-"

"But I'm a child?"

His head fell then, down into his hands, as he pressed his elbows into his thighs. Through gritted teeth, he ground out, "I didn't say that."

"Yes, you did. You and Joanie have an adult relationship, but I had a play one, a pretend one, so it's okay that I ended it. Right? Right, Paul?"

He couldn't help it. Through his lips slipped then, "Well, you were fucking around on him, Steph, for the majority of it, so you tell me."

"Fuck you, Paul."

"Stephanie-"

"You're not gonna leave her. Are you?"

"It's not," he repeated, turning his head to glare at her then, "that simple. You don't get it. We live together. We share things together. We-"

"It doesn't matter. I-"

"Yes, it does! If it wasn't for her, you and I-"

"No, I mean that what you say doesn't matter. And neither does what I have to say." She wasn't tearful, which was odd. Calm, more like it. Eerily so. Staring at him, she only shook her head a bit. "Daddy doesn't… The only reason he said okay was because I was okay with it. And he believed you too. About you and… But you're asshole and I'm an idiot and… We can't anymore, Paul."

"Stephanie, what are you-"

"We're not allowed to date anymore." And she got to her feet then too, as she said that. "We're allowed to work together. But I can't… It'll eventually affect business, Vince says, and-"

"And this won't?"

"It doesn't matter."

"But it does! Shit's already affected! So just- Steph, don't go." He reached for her hand too, as she passed, but she dodged him. "Stephanie, please. I'll do it. I'll leave her. I'll… I thought that she would leave me by now. Okay? But she won't and it's… I love you."

That didn't even get her. As far as he knew. Because as she left the room, he stayed, he had to stay, as he sat there on the end of the bed, about a thousand things flying thourhg his mind. He couldn't go chase after her and make a big scene. That was the last thing that the situation could be allowed to devolve into. A scene. He had to sit there, head in his hands, and just deal with it alone.

He felt like the carpet had just been pulled out from under him.

Not that Stephanie felt much better. He didn't know because she'd rehearsed it a thousand times, on the drive down, had it down perfect, and delivered it much the same, but in her car then, after it all, she finally did it. She cried. She bawled. And waited. For him to come get her. And tell her to fuck Vince and fuck Joanie and fuck her. Fuck it all. They belonged together.

But he didn't.

She waited for a good hour, out there, but he didn't come.

And eventually she left.

The taping was horrible. For them both. She kept staring at him and he kept looking at her and there was so much to say, but they couldn't, because Vince made sure they were never alone. It was a rule. From that point forth, if he caught the two of them alone, he swore that Paul would be fired on the spot.

Again, they were stuck in a set of weeks. A horrible set where Paul and Joanie only fought, he didn't have Steph there to sulk about it with, and she, personally, felt like shit over all that had gone on and like an idiot and wow, she was a whore.

That was the word.

Right?

She'd cheated on her boyfriend and cheated with someone else's boyfriend and for what? So that she could end up alone at the end of the day?

And on top of that, she had to still play it up out there with Paul, in front of the cameras. Sure, they were in the middle of a new phase of their storyline, where she worked more with Angle than with him, but that just made it worse.

Was Vince punishing them? Or was God?

Or were both?

He'd been to her house before. Only a handful of times. Paul had. It wasn't something that happened often (again, he had a girlfriend that he very much so lived with in another state), but he knew where it was.

And when he arrived there, one night, on her doorstep, Steph didn't know what to do.

It was a gated community, but she'd given him her security code to the gate before, because she was an idiot, and wow, there he was, on one of the rare days she actually got to be home and away from him and their drama.

"Paul," she breathed and oh, damn, it felt good to say that again. Because he'd gone back to being Hunter, he'd had to go back to being Hunter, but it was Paul standing there with his dark eyes and heavy frown. "What are you-"

"I can't stay," he said as she took a step back when he took one forwards, allowing him into the house. He was in one of his leather jackets and his hair was down and he looked so good in dark jeans. So very good. "But I had to… Fuck, Steph, this isn't fair. You just came in there and ambushed me with all that shit and didn't give me a chance. You just… And fuck Vince. Fuck you too, for thinking that you could do that to me. Just…"

And her mouth was hanging opened as he reached out for it and…

"Paul." That time, the whisper was smothered against his lips. "We can't. You-"

"I'll leave her, Steph," he promised against hers. He was backing her up, further into her house as he went, kicking the door shut behind them. "I'll leave the company. I'll leave everything. But I'm not fucking leaving you. Not when what we had was so good. We're so good, baby. Together. And if we're that good behind closed doors, just wait until I can take you out. You're the one I want to take out. And be with. And go to things with. I swear. I just… I got caught up and it was easy, you know? To justify? Because you were the other one. Not Joanie. And I wasn't lying; things aren't good. But yeah, we were sleeping together still. You were right. I'm a liar. I'm a fucking liar and a cheater and I hate it but… Let me do it right. You just have to let me do it right."

He'd backed her right into a wall, Paul had, but his head was still bent, as he'd hissed all of that against her mouth as she only stared up at him in shock.

It felt like a dream. It had been a dream. For him to do just what he was doing. To come after her. To say all of that.

He was just...a bit late.

But…

He hadn't missed the train either.

He just needed to run to catch it.

"I don't know what-"

"Then don't say anything." He rested his forehead against hers. "Just tell me if you want to still see me." When she nodded, he said, "Good. Then I'll tell Vince tomorrow that I'm done and-"

"You can't."

"Stephanie, I-"

"We won't tell him."

"What?"

It was hard to swallow, but she managed then, the past few minutes catching up with her. Paul was there, confessing his love, truly confessing it, not just saying it when confronted with the truth, and was putting it all out there.

So it was her turn to do the same.

"We won't," she repeated as her hands came up to hold onto his fuzzy cheeks, "tell him."

"But if I break up with Joanie, he'll know that-"

"Then don't do that either."

He only blinked. Then he frowned. "Steph, I don't get it. You said-"

"Not yet. Don't leave her yet." One of her hands stayed up on his cheek, but the other fell, to his chest, which she patted against, finding the same comfort in its sturdiness as always. "Just… We need more time. You can't leave the company."

"I can. I'll...go somewhere else."

"Paul-"

"There's other circuits."

"Filled with people whose whole careers are centered on one day getting to where you are."

"Then they can have where I am. I'll give it to them."

"Paul-"

"I want you."

"You're not-"

"Thinking? This is all I've fucking thought about. And he's such an ass, Vince is, after all I've done for him, to still make us… To not just get rid of this damn story. To still..." His eyes shut then, but Steph only watched his eye lids, waiting for his irises to appear once more. "I need you."

"And you need your job."

"But I want you."

'You can have me. We just have to...rework some things."

Nuzzling his head against hers, the hands he'd been resting on her sides moved to take both of her hands in his. As his eyes opened once more, Paul pulled back a bit, to stare at her full on. "Whatever you want. I just need you. I can't...not be with you. You're all I think about. And I've had more than enough time to detox, but I'm not going to. I don't love Joanie. Or, I'm not in love with her or whatever it is, but what I'm feeling for you… You're who I want to be with. And I don't want to hurt her. Or fuck myself over up at work, but… This…"

"We'll rework it. All of it. We-"

"I love you."

Which didn't mean a lot, back then. And it shouldn't because it wouldn't be real, not truly, until the following year when he'd tear a quad and she'd be there to nurse him back to health.

But still, the words tumbled out on her end as well as then they kissed and he had to go, he needed to go, they could figure it all out later, what they'd do about his relationship and she'd do about her father and what they'd do, together, about the company, when and if it found out, but at the moment, he just had to…

"Go," Steph sighed as she walked him back to the door. "Home. You shouldn't have come all this way. You-"

"Maybe she'll break up with me now." He said it in a morose way and neither felt too good about the idea. "And that'll take care of one of our problems."

"If she hasn't yet, I don't see how she will now."

"She has to know something was up."

And she did. She was very suspicious. But it would be another two months until she found one of the little notes that Steph shared with him sometimes, in a briefcase and it all, finally, came to a head.

For the moment though, only Steph and Paul knew about them, knew that they were truly back on, and for some reason, it hurt both of their hearts.

"I'll call you," he said as she followed him out to his car. "Alright? And we'll… I just… We'll make adjustments. Right?"

"Right," she breathed. "Adjustments."

"And we'll be together?"

Nodding, Steph swallowed before saying, "From now on."

For always.

As he drove off, he felt less panicked and frenzied than before, but something heavy replaced that. He had Steph back, but…

At what cost?

And as she went back into her house, she couldn't get back into the work for her father she'd been taking care of. Instead, she went to fall into her bed, blinds all drawn, alone, no stereo, no nothing, and she cried. Again. For the hundredth time.

Because she was a stupid woman. A stupid girl. She felt like a child. But she did it. She was getting what she wanted; she'd been offered exactly what she wanted, but she still felt tearful about it. Confused.

 _Sinful._

It was still wrong. So wrong. The entire time it had been wrong. Now she wasn't just helping him do Joanie wrong again, she'd talked him into it. He was ready to leave her, but for their own gain, to keep his job secure, she'd begged him off it.

They weren't friends or anything, but felt like she was betraying the other woman. It had the entire time, but even more so then.

Because there was no lying to herself. About any of it. She knew what Paul was, what he was pretending to be, and she still wanted him. Was still going to take him. Have him.

 _Love him_.

And that wasn't even addressing the lying to her father yet…

Hours later, when she'd managed to at least get up and move to the living room, to get back to that paperwork, her phone rang, but she didn't even need to check the caller id to know who it was.

"We're still," Paul breathed on the other end, softly, and she knew he was at home, that _she_ was there too, and that they were being sneaky, "on, right?"

"Are we?" she asked right back, curled up under a blanket. "You're the one that came down here all impulsively, Paul. Not me."

"I was passing through."

"Sure."

She heard him take in a breath before whispering, "I've had time to think and...more time, I mean, and… I'm in it. Whatever it is that you want to do, I'm in it. Are you?"

And there was her chance. Served up to her a platter. To not betray her father and his girlfriend (both for the second time). To grow up. Wasn't that what he called her before? Called her relationship with her ex? Childish?

Because what they had going on felt a hell of a lot like what children do too.

But…

What about her? What about what she wanted? She cared about Paul. A lot about Paul. And she wasn't the one that got him stuck in the relationship with Joanie. And it wasn't her fault that her father couldn't see that what they had was real, could be real, if it was just given a chance.

She was just the one that fell in love with the wrong person, at the wrong time, and was trying to fix it, not realizing that, with all things, it would all get worse, in those few months, when the letter would be found, so much worse, before it ever got better.

But then, what good story didn't have some big climax before the fairy tale ending?

Shifting a bit under the blanket, Stephanie took in a breath before saying, "Yeah, Paul. I'm in it too."

* * *

 **So this was a request for how their relationship started, but I'd obviously had gotten around to this eventually. Most of it's, obviously, factious, but back before Paul and Steph tried to pretend like this all didn't go down this way, in old interviews around that time, they both kinda said they were sneaking around, Vince found out, gave them an okay, took it away, then they snuck around some more, until Joanie found the love letter, which she also says happened in interviews, and then, somewhere in that comes Steph's fairy tale she's always bragging about. Plus, she said in her Howard Stern one that Paul pulled that whole 'we're just living together' thing, so that's where I got that from.**

 **But a few of you said you wanted something less fluffy and more dramatic, so here this is.**

 **Always up for new requests, but to the guest who sent me the babysitting one, I don't see how that's viable (their ages are just all too close, I think, for it to work; I don't see one being left in charge of the other), so I'm sorry. You can ask for something else though.**


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